Oz startled awake, initially unsure where she was. Frankie sleeping across from her and the rhythmic clacking of the rails grounded her. She spent a minute or two chiding herself for falling asleep and leaving them vulnerable and then decided it wasn’t worth it. Nothing bad had happened and she needed to sleep. Since the moment Frankie arrived at her door she’d been running, planning, and trying not to let either of them die. Her arm throbbed and she was exhausted.
She checked her watch. She’d only been asleep an hour, but she felt much better than when she’d landed in her seat. The scenery flying by out the window was beautiful. She took a few minutes to enjoy it. Looking at the world pass by was calming enough she could almost forget the dire straits she and Frankie were in.
As if on cue, Frankie whimpered in her sleep, pulling Oz’s attention away from the window. Frankie didn’t wake, despite her furrowed brow and tight set jaw. Oz took the opportunity to study her more carefully without being caught. Her initial assessment of Frankie as “not ugly” now seemed comical. Frankie was exquisite. Her hair was no longer styled as it had been when they’d first met and her makeup was long gone. If possible, Oz liked this version even better than the chic, runway-worthy version that she’d first met.
Oz’s mind strayed to what Frankie must look like fresh from bed, rumpled and relaxed. She chided herself. Keep your clit in your pants, Osborne. It really had been too long since she’d seen anyone except her own reflection in the early morning hours.
“You can stop staring at me like you’re slowly undressing me.” Frankie didn’t look like she’d opened her eyes, but her smirk said she knew exactly what was going through Oz’s mind.
“How do you know I wasn’t thinking about my grocery list or what chance I have of solving the Sunday crossword this week?” Oz put her feet up on the seat next to Frankie and stretched.
“If you get that look from thinking about produce, canned beans, and a half gallon of milk, I might take my chances with the bad guys.” Frankie finally opened her eyes and she too stretched.
Oz licked her lips before realizing what she was doing. Why was she acting like a high school boy who’d never seen boobs before? She returned her attention to the landscape outside.
“I used to love riding the train.” Frankie sighed.
Oz could hear the melancholy and stress in Frankie’s voice. “Come on, this trip isn’t so bad. No one’s shot at us, we got a little sleep, and you get to hang out with me. Where’s the issue?” Oz held her hands out to the side, feigning innocence.
“If you could go on any train trip, what would you choose?” It was Frankie’s turn to look out the window pensively.
“I don’t know. I’ve never considered a train as anything more than a way to get where I’m going. What trip should I choose?” Oz leaned forward in her seat bringing her closer to Frankie.
Frankie was quiet, clearly pondering. “I’ve always wanted to ride the California Zephyr. I’ve heard it’s the most beautiful train ride in America. I’d also like to go on a Grand Canyon tour by train.”
“Aside from the guys with the guns and getting arrested for murder, what’s stopped you?” Oz gave Frankie her full attention.
“I don’t know.” Frankie hesitated then continued. “That’s not actually true. I could use the excuse that I work too much or now’s not the right time, but the truth is I don’t want to do them solo. I want to have someone to share the experience with. There hasn’t been anyone I want to make those memories with so I haven’t gone. Sounds a little pathetic when I say it out loud.”
Oz reached across the space between them and squeezed Frankie’s hand. “It’s not pathetic at all. Surprising that you haven’t already been snatched up, but not pathetic.”
After a spell of companionable silence, Frankie broke the quiet. “Why are you doing this for me?”
Oz shifted in her seat, uncomfortable under Frankie’s penetrating, searching stare. “Who says I’m not doing it for me? You promised me gobs of money and I need to buy a new recliner.”
“Oz.” There was warning in Frankie’s voice.
“Okay, okay. I don’t know is the best answer I’ve got. Trust is a funny thing, and for some reason I trust that you aren’t actually a murderer, or at least you don’t have your eyes set on me as your next target.” Oz shrugged. “And the asshats after you shot up my house. That pissed me off. Between you and me, I’d probably still be at home dozing in my chair if the trigger-happy hitmen hadn’t stopped by.”
Frankie looked unsatisfied. “You were pretty set on showing me the door.”
“Hey, I fed you first. I have a few manners.” Oz grew serious. “Why are you trusting me?”
Frankie shrugged. “I have a pretty finely tuned gut. It doesn’t usually steer me wrong. I’m used to taking calculated risks and you seemed like a safe bet.”
Oz couldn’t decipher the look that passed swiftly across Frankie’s face. Was it longing? That couldn’t be right.
“In order to keep my reputation intact, I’ll be offering full service this ride. Can I get you something from the dining car?”
“Full service you say? What other services do you have to offer?” Frankie raised one eyebrow in challenge.
“Your wish is my command.” Oz made a show of bowing grandly.
“I love hearing a woman tell me that.” Frankie grinned widely, the joking making her face light up and her eyes sparkle. “For now though, some food would be great. Can we afford to eat on the train? I know our funds are limited.”
“I think we can splurge for overpriced underwhelming train food. I’ll be right back.” Oz pushed through the door of their private room and went in search of the dining car. She jumped when her cell phone rang loudly. She jerked it out of her pocket and answered quickly. “Hello.”
“Ms. Osborne, thank you for taking my call. Please do not alert Ms. Sender who you are talking to until you’ve heard me out.” The man’s voice was calm and matter-of-fact. He sounded like a stereotypical movie villain with an unbeatable master plan. It put Oz on high alert.
“I don’t know who I’m talking to so it would be hard for me to alert anyone of anything. Who are you and what do you want?” Oz stepped into a small alcove at the end of the car and leaned against the luggage rack.
“My name is Jordan Minor and I am representing InvestBioX in this conversation.”
Oz yanked the phone away from her ear and stared at it before returning to the call. “Then you and I have nothing to discuss unless it’s how to compensate me for my holey house.”
“I’m sorry about your property. It was an unfortunate misunderstanding. Before we get riled up about a few stray bullets, let me present my offer.”
There was silence on the line. Oz let it drag. The man could say what he wanted to say and then she’d be free to end the call.
Finally, the man spoke again. “Right, okay. I’m assuming since you’re still on the phone that you are willing to listen. We, InvestBioX, would like your assistance in bringing Ms. Sender into custody. We know you have the bond paperwork and her intention is to skip her court date. Frankly, she’s become a nuisance to the company and we’d like to see her where she belongs, in jail.”
“Says you.” Oz’s mind was whirring. What was this guy’s angle?
“You’re right of course. Except you’ve been getting Ms. Sender’s version of events and now I’m taking the opportunity to present mine. Ms. Sender is a dangerous criminal who took another’s life. We want justice to be served.”
“Again, so says you. Why are you involving me in all this?” Oz was getting impatient.
“You were an unanticipated wrinkle but one that I think can be mutually beneficial. We’d like your help bringing in Ms. Sender and handing over any evidence she thinks she has. In exchange we can compensate you handsomely. Ms. Sender offered you the money from bringing her in after she completes this mission she thinks she’s on. Is that correct?”
Oz nodded before realizing he couldn’t see her. She grunted an agreement.
“We’ll triple it.” There was no hesitation on the other end of the phone. InvestBioX, or someone, had deep pockets to be offering that kind of money.
“You don’t have to give me an answer right now. I’ll be back in touch. Just remember you would be getting a dangerous criminal off the streets. I know your moral compass points true. In the meantime, keep an eye on her. If there is more out there that she’s collected, we want that as well. I’m counting on you. And please don’t share this information with Ms. Sender. I don’t want to have to take more drastic measures.”
“How much more drastic can you get?” There was no one on the other end of the phone. The man disconnected and was gone.
Oz stared at her phone and shook her head slowly. How much weirder can this crap get? Her first instinct was to give a middle finger salute to Jordan Minor and his overlords, but she hesitated. All she knew about Frankie was what she’d provided. Oz wanted to trust her, her gut told her to trust her, but what if she was wrong? What if she’d let a pretty face and a sad story cloud her judgment?
Thankfully, the line to order moved at a glacial pace so Oz had plenty of time to think before returning to Frankie. Should she tell Frankie about the call? Ask for more proof of her innocence? Pretend the call never happened? Each option had pros and cons.
After torturing herself with question after question all throughout ordering and waiting for their food, Oz finally returned the her seat and to Frankie. She pushed open the door and was met with a wide, welcoming smile. It lit Frankie’s whole face and seemed to melt the worry away, if only for a minute. Her smile faded though as soon as Oz sat down heavily. Whatever look was on her face, Frankie had deciphered it. The smile evaporated and fear dominated her features.
“Are they on the train? Do we need to run again?”
“No. They’re not here.” Oz let Frankie search her face. It pained her how Frankie was now stalked by the specter of menace.
Frankie crossed her arms, pulling herself inward. “Then what’s wrong?” Oz must have hesitated too long because anger flashed across Frankie’s face. “Don’t you dare lie to me. Whatever it is, spit it out.”
Oz took a deep breath and opened her mouth to speak. She had no idea what was about to come out. “There’s a reason I’m asking what I’m about to ask and it doesn’t mean I don’t trust you, but I need to know. Do you have any proof that you didn’t do the things you were arrested for?”
Frankie’s jaw tightened and her body stiffened. “Do I have proof I didn’t murder someone? Is that what you mean?”
“Yes. I guess that is what I mean.” Oz’s insides felt wriggly in an unpleasant way.
“I’m not a murderer, Dakota Osborne.” Frankie’s voice was ice. “But if you need to know, the man I’m accused of murdering was an executive at InvestBioX. Appointments and invites were added to my calendar without my knowledge showing multiple meetings with him even though we’d never met. Around the time of the murder I was at the gym in a body combat class. The police never interviewed a single participant from that class or checked the security camera footage from the gym. I asked around.” Frankie stopped and took a slow breath. “They supposedly recorded a phone call of me arguing with and threatening the victim, but the conversation never happened. I recognized my end of the recording as part of an argument I had with another short seller. The part where I said ‘I’m going to kill you’ is so poorly spliced it sounds like the voice of a phone tree from the late nineties.” Frankie paused for a moment. There was still fire in her eyes. “All of that and the guy I supposedly killed was well over six feet tall and weighed two hundred and sixty pounds. He was an amateur weightlifter and was working toward his black belt in karate.”
Oz swallowed hard. “How do they say you killed him?”
“Strangled him. With my bare hands.” Frankie sat back in her seat and crossed her arms. “If you’re having second thoughts, get out now. I can’t worry about them and about you.”
“Whoa, I told you there was a reason I was asking and there is. I got a phone call.”
Frankie dropped her head back against the seat and groaned. “I should have known they’d come after you. You’re a problem for them and an asset to me. What did they say? Not to trust me, I’m a liar and a killer?”
Oz tilted her head side to side. “Something like that. And they offered to pay me to betray you.”
Frankie sat up. “How much?”
“Triple the amount for bringing you in.”
“Holy shit.” Frankie looked startled at how loudly she’d exclaimed and clapped her hand over her mouth. “Holy shit.” She used a quieter voice. “I’d toss me to the wolves if I were you. You could buy a whole furniture store filled with nothing but ugly recliners with that kind of money.”
“Oh, shut up. I’m not betraying you or taking their money. But I think we should let them think I am.” Oz’s gut settled. This felt like the right move.
Frankie motioned her to continue so Oz explained her plan. With Frankie’s help, she’d hand over shreds of information to look like she was making a good faith effort to keep her end of the bargain. In return she’d try to pry as much out of them as she could. It was risky, but to Oz it seemed like a line worth casting.
Although Frankie agreed, she looked hesitant. Maybe she was overwhelmed with yet another wrinkle or maybe she didn’t fully trust her. It surprised her how much that thought bothered her. Despite being incredibly hypocritical given her questioning of Frankie, it still stung. More than it probably should. As long as she didn’t let her desire for Frankie’s approval cloud her judgment. Sure, right, that wouldn’t be a problem. Oz rolled her eyes. This job just got a whole lot harder.